


Overnight Rush

by epersonae



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: (that they know of), Anal Sex, First Time, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Lunar Interlude 2, M/M, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, catching feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 14:57:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19008127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epersonae/pseuds/epersonae
Summary: This takes place in the same continuity as most of my work, and overlaps specifically withSupercut (of us). Got thinking about this bit in particular, and what actually happened after that:She catches a look then, Taako gazing up at Magnus with a lazy smile, cat who caught the canary, and Magnus looking back, a bit startled, a bit confused, and maybe a smidge curious. And if she weren’t held aloft on music and dance and dank-ass potion, well maybe her heart would break a little, but the music swells, and for half a second Taako grinds against Magnus, who blushes. Taako winks at her, an exaggerated gesture, and grabs her hand. They sway together, all three, bumping hips and waving their hands in the air.Also fits together withJust Strangers; the ending expands on a couple of line from that.The title, not coincidentally, comes from Supercut (of us) by Lorde.





	Overnight Rush

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in the same continuity as most of my work, and overlaps specifically with [Supercut (of us)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11446497). Got thinking about this bit in particular, and what actually happened after that:
> 
> _She catches a look then, Taako gazing up at Magnus with a lazy smile, cat who caught the canary, and Magnus looking back, a bit startled, a bit confused, and maybe a smidge curious. And if she weren’t held aloft on music and dance and dank-ass potion, well maybe her heart would break a little, but the music swells, and for half a second Taako grinds against Magnus, who blushes. Taako winks at her, an exaggerated gesture, and grabs her hand. They sway together, all three, bumping hips and waving their hands in the air._
> 
> Also fits together with [Just Strangers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17378225); the ending expands on a couple of line from that.
> 
> The title, not coincidentally, comes from Supercut (of us) by Lorde.

It’s almost criminally unfair, that oak shithouse of a man wearing  _ his  _ clothes, which even the loose gauzy things he  _ stole _ out of Taako’s trunk honestly leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. Taako tries not to stare, Taako’s  _ been trying _ not to stare, but he can’t help looking at that big lug hovering at the edge of the crowd, even as he struts his stuff, dancing. He looks at everybody  _ but  _ Magnus. You gotta put yourself out there, and as always, people are loving what Taako’s serving: put that Dex to use, baby.

Finally, he’s got himself a little crowd, and the music is bumping, but he’s aware of Magnus still there, still hovering — is Magnus looking at  _ him?  _ And boy, doesn’t that feel like a trick question, but he winks anyway, answered by a grin spreading across a face still covered in greasepaint kitten whiskers, Magnus finally starting to move to that beat.

Can’t look at him, don’t look at him — so Taako just dances with some rando, doesn’t matter who, but this gal, of course,  _ of course _ she spins him around until he crashes right into old Mango there. Might as well make lemonade out of that lemon, right? Good excuse to grind and shimmy against him, try not to jump the boy’s bones right there on the dance floor. He winks at the woman in the mask, as if to say  _ thanks for the pitch, bubeleh.  _ He’d almost swear she winks back, too; she’s definitely grinning, that’s for sure, and something about it makes him feel seen. In a good way? A bad way? He doesn’t know, but he grabs her hand again like it’s something familiar, but not too familiar, but not too not familiar: three strangers, perhaps, bumping hips and waving their hands in the air.

There’s a moment there, the woman kissing Mags on the cheek, and he kisses her back, but as Taako’s heart starts to sink into his stomach, the woman is gone, vanished back into the crowd, and Magnus is still here, close, his dancing slowed to an awkward sway. His eyes are huge, irises swallowed up by his pupils. Taako knows that feel, he’s had some of Pringle’s potions too, feels like they’re floating a bit, which on second thought, they are, aren’t they? Floating all the way on a goddamn moon. He giggles at the thought.

Magnus leans over, his mouth against Taako’s ear, and Taako can feel the heat coming off of him, almost more than he can stand. Magnus’s voice is almost a shout: “Don’ laugh at my dancin’, ‘m just” — he waves his hands, and damned if the boy isn’t wearing an armful of Taako’s own bracelets — “kinda fucked up?”

Taako waves his own arms out towards the throng around them, as if to say  _ aren’t we all? _ but Magnus grabs his hands and starts spinning him around. The crowd dissolves into a sparkling blur: the only real thing is Magnus’s hands around his, Magnus’s eyes on his, the feel of the music like his own heart beating a little too fast. And then Magnus dips him, which has nothing to do with whatever Johann is doing up on the stage, just — suddenly he’s looking up at the stars around Magnus’s face, his body low, almost parallel to the ground, with Magnus’s strong supporting hand in the small of his back.

(Something about that, too, Magnus’s smile and the stars, yet another thing that feels like returning to a long-forgotten home. But it’s nothing like anything he can remember, and he feels dizzy: the potions? His feelings? The memory of all those voices? He’s not going to ask.)

“Hachi machi,” he mutters, not sure if Magnus can hear, not sure if he cares either way, as he puts a hand on Magnus’s arm, trying for a tentative squeeze. When Magnus pulls him upright, they’re pressed chest to chest, barely even pretending to dance now. They’re so close he can feel Magnus’s breathing, and his heartbeat feels even louder than the music, which Taako knows isn’t logically possible, but the same as the brim of Magnus’s hat — his hat — feels like it put them into their own tiny world, this little universe separate from the rest of the Bureau, the way the Bureau is a little universe away from the world below….

Magnus kisses him. Just once, a soft press of their lips that steals all of the air from Taako’s chest. He stumbles backwards, his hand still on Magnus’s chest, the fabric of his own tunic over that broad chest, and he blinks up into Magnus’s face. Magnus bites his lower lip, licks it, and fuck: Taako wants that mouth on his, but, but, but….

Magnus looks wounded. “Was that— I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—” Taako can’t hear him over the music, but he can see the words on his lips, and he shakes his head, and it's like he's several feet up out of his body, looking down at them.

“No, yeah, it’s not—” He’s trembling, his whole body alight with the possibility of the moment, the fear of ruining it, the words coming out tumbled and wrong. “Fuck!” he shouts, and Magnus’s eyes go even wider, like that was even possible. Before Magnus can back away or regret what he’s done, Taako launches himself forward for another kiss, a real one this time. 

It's hot and rough, a little sloppy, messier than he imagined — and now Taako can't lie to himself, he's been imagining Magnus’s mouth on his, Magnus’s arms around him, and his hands on Magnus’s chest. Which, it's happening, and right out in public….

He pulls back and touches Magnus’s face, trying not to think about all the people dancing around them, although out of the corner of his eye he sees they’re not alone in taking advantage of the occasion. Still, he’d rather not have his business be all public like that. He can’t quite form the words, though, so he just tugs on the front of Magnus’s shirt, walks backwards through the crowd, not dancing but with a dance in his step.

Every few steps Magnus stops to kiss his face, that hot mouth pressing against his cheek, his forehead, onto his lips. Magnus’s eyes are wide and brilliant and devouring; when they kiss again, Taako’s lips feel bruised with the force of it.

“Not — no — not here,” Taako gasps, feeling still the press of bodies around them, and while he’s a bit gone he’s not quite  _ that  _ gone.

Magnus’s mouth goes agape to match his wide eyes, an almost comical expression, and he looks over Taako’s head towards the dormitory domes, and then back at Taako.

“Oh,”  and he touches the tip of his tongue to his upper lip, and his hands on Taako’s waist grip just a little tighter. “Oh, okay, cool, yeah.” 

“If you’re sure….” Taako starts to say, but Magnus is already moving so fast through the crowd that Taako can’t keep up the backwards walking, and they’re practically running through the crowd and around the carnival games and across the quad. The music cuts off when they slip inside the dome, and it’s quiet there, the whirr of air circulators the only sound around them as they move through the empty corridors.

Magnus stops, and Taako crashes against him, panting and breathless, dizzy with dancing and potions and desire.

“Some of us aren’t quite built for that much rushing, big guy,” he says.

Magnus blushes, and gods that’s something Taako wants to see more of, Magnus flushed and sweaty, and Taako touches the side of his face, greasepaint smearing under his fingertips.

“I just, you know,” and rather than finishing that thought, whatever it is, Magnus kisses him again, backs him up against the corridor wall, those big arms on either side of him. The wizard hat tumbles off of Magnus’s head and onto the floor.

“Yeah?” says Taako, when they pause for breath. Magnus doesn’t say anything, just smiles that crooked smile. Taako lets go of Magnus’s hips to run a hand over his crotch, the bulge in his leggings (Taako’s leggings) more than he’d anticipated, and Magnus lets out a soft groan at Taako’s touch. Taako hums appreciatively. Without taking his eyes off of Magnus’s face, (eyes falling closed, mouth slack) he thumbs at Magnus’s nipple, still just ghosting his other hand over Magnus’s dick, feeling it strain at the soft fabric of the leggings. Magnus thrusts his hips forward, and Taako starts to pull up the tunic, ready to just slip a hand into the leggings, but Magnus grabs his wrist, his eyes flying open to look into Taako’s

A jolt of fear hits Taako, cutting through the blissful unreality of it, but all Magnus says is “Wait,” and then looks down the corridor.

“Oh right, yeah, probably a bad idea, oughtta get to—” but as he’s talking Magnus is rucking up his judge’s robe and dropping to his knees. “Oh.” And if he wasn’t hard before, the sight of Magnus on his knees, staring up at him through his long lashes, that’ll do it, and then Magnus takes Taako’s dick in his hand, and his hips jolt forward, Magnus’s hand all the way around his dick, exactly the right pressure. He looks up at the ceiling, breathing hard, already muttering curses, and then he feels Magnus’s breath on him, and then a swipe of that big tongue, the soft suction of his lips, his tongue swirling around the tip of Taako’s dick. And Taako would have sworn, if you’d asked him, that this big beefcake was straight as an arrow: jokes and goofs and little looks aside, he didn’t think the boy had  _ this  _ in him, giving head like a goddamn champ. Taako’s hands tangle in Magnus’s hair, like that’s exactly what’s going to rev him up even more, a heated moan coming deep from Magnus’s throat as his hands grab Taako’s ass, bracelets clinking softly on Magnus’s wrists. Magnus is  _ face-fucking him _ in the goddamn corridor of the dorm.

He’s close, he’s so close, and he tugs at Magnus’s hair with the vague thought he doesn’t want to finish here, not like this, in the cool quiet corridor where someone might see them— (There’s a memory just at the edge of thought, a narrow corridor and the low hum of....) And his brain just about whites out. He pulls Magnus’s hair, but it’s like the signal has the opposite effect, Magnus groans again and he can feel it, like the perfect inducement to just thrust forward again, to let go, Maggie’s got him, and gods he wants this, wants  _ him.  _ Taako wants to just wail out his name but instead turns his head, bites his lip. Magnus’s tongue at the base of his cock, those big hands on his ass, and his own hands gripping Magnus’s head. 

“Baby, I’m gonna—” the endearment falling from his mouth like he’s said it a thousand times, but he hasn’t, he just wants to give him a chance to pull off, but Magnus, gods love him, just keeps going, his head bobbing as he works over Taako’s dick. It’s so good, it’s so much, it’s exactly right, and he feels the pulsing of his dick in Magnus’s mouth, feels himself spill onto Magnus’s tongue and down his throat. Magnus swallows, breathing hard through his nose, and Taako murmurs  _ fuck,  _ unable to form any coherent thought.

As Magnus sits back on his heels, looking up at Taako with a shy smile, Taako’s robe falls back down. Taako braces himself against the wall, too wobbly to trust his own legs.

“Was that— was that okay?” asks Magnus, in a startlingly soft voice. “I haven’t… you know… In a while, I guess...”

Taako’s head hits the wall with a thud as he closes his eyes.

“C’mere, bubeleh,” he murmurs, and feels Magnus stand, then gently peel him off of the wall to lean against his broad chest. “That was— You’re a goddamn champ, and don’t let anybody tell you different.” He drops a languid hand to Magnus’s crotch, presses until he hears Magnus whine.

“You don’t have to—” and Magnus’s voice breaks with a gasp as Taako toys with him.

“Oh, baby,  _ please.  _ You think ol’ Taako’s going to leave you high and dry?”

Magnus just moans.

With a dry chuckle, Taako says, “But maybe not here?”

“Yeah. Ok, yeah, yeah, yeah, totally.” But Magnus doesn’t move, just holds Taako close, breathing hard. When he reaches a hand to ghost along Taako’s ear, the sensitive tip tingling under those calloused fingers, Taako finally pulls away, taking Magnus’s hand and walking towards their room without a word.

They stand awkwardly once they get into the dorm room, Magnus toying with the hem of his shirt, and Taako wants to snipe at him for ruining his clothes, but he looks into Magnus’s eyes — sober now, and anxious, and is he regretting this? Taako’s on the verge of regretting all his choices, maybe even regretting jumping in on that dumb Craig’s List ad, when Magnus clears his throat, so much quieter than usual. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to…. I’m fine, I can just, you know….” says Magnus while looking at a spot on the door somewhere above and to the right of Taako’s head. His entire face is flushed under the greasepaint that’s been smeared into illegibility. And his dick — well, maybe Magnus says he’s okay with not getting any, but that hard-on doesn’t seem to have flagged at all, and Taako sighs.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me, my dude.” He’s aware, suddenly, of riding a fine line between fooling around with a hot dude and dealing with his teammate’s (friend’s?) actual factual feelings. But whatever, feelings are a problem for Later Taako. He steps forward, puts his hands on Magnus’s big forearms, gently coaxes him to unfold them, peels the gauzy shirt off of him. “You know I do usually wear that with an undershirt, right?” he mutters as he runs his hands up the pooch of Magnus’s belly, the broad muscles under the fluff of auburn chest hair. 

Magnus chuckles. “You don’t have to,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, somehow both goofy and hot. Taako just hums noncommittally as he tosses the shirt aside, mentally steeling himself to having to cast Mending on it later, then returns to running his hands over Magnus, appreciating the soft hungry sounds that result. He brushes over one nipple with his thumb; Magnus sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes.

“Oh, innnnnteresting,” murmurs Taako, who leans forward to tug on it with his teeth. Some instinct in him says  _ yes, of course that, and then also—  _ and he reaches a hand into his leggings, wraps his hand around Magnus’s cock, almost too thick for his hand. He can’t really stroke in those close quarters, and standing so close, so he just holds it, his hand curled down around the base, feeling the prickle of wiry hairs. Taako flicks Magnus’s nipple with his tongue, and Magnus’s whole body jolts towards him, dick thrusting up in his hand, heated body pressing up against him. It’s dizzying, drawing a reaction out of him, and he wants— 

“Bed,” he mutters, though their narrow dorm bunks aren’t quite what he wants, he wants enough room to really luxuriate, to explore, but it’s what they’ve got, and Taako’s nothing if not resourceful.

“Muhuh,” Magnus replies, an incoherent sound out of the back of his throat, and he’s staring, still not moving for a moment before shuffling backwards until he backs up into the frame of their bunk bed. He blinks, then, looks from the top bunk to the bottom, then at Taako. “Bottom?”

Taako snickers, and he didn’t think Magnus could blush any more than he already was, but apparently so.

“I mean, you know, like, bed?”

And then Taako laughs for real, and Magnus grimaces, but he starts laughing too, and pulls Taako close, kissing up the shell of his ear, up along the tip, and it’s absolutely maddening, he’s panting, and rutting against Magnus’s leg, and he pushes Magnus away, not unkindly, but shaking his head ruefully.

“Magnus Burnsides, you’re a fucking menace,” and Magnus giggles at that, and Taako puts a hand on his chest, runs a hand up until his fingertips rest under Magnus’s chin, and just looks at him without another word, and he wants to kiss him, and he wants to scold him, and he wants…. Something real and honest and intimate, but he can’t possibly ask for that, so he just pulls down the leggings, licking his lips at the sight of Magnus’s cock bouncing free.

“Ruined a perfectly good pair of leggings, is what you did,” he mutters, as he drops to his knees, continuing to shove them down. Touching Magnus’s legs, those great sturdy tree trunks, his fingertips skimming the hair on Magnus’s thighs. Taako looks up, and Magnus is blushing, looking up at the ceiling, biting his lip. He looks nervous, even as his hips cant forward; Taako lets out a barely audible sigh.

“Maggie baby,” he says, “look at me.” He runs a hand flat along Magnus’s thigh. After what seems like an interminable wait, but is probably only a few seconds, Magnus’s head tilts down. He’s fucking gorgeous, and Taako wants to see that beautiful face overcome with ecstasy, and it would be so easy to just get him off, consequences be damned, but for the first time in years he actually gives a shit about consequences. So he stands, rests his hands on Magnus’s hips, and looks him in the eye.

“It’s fine,” says Magnus, “I’m cool, just, you know, been a while, and uh….” 

Taako strokes his hip with one thumb, and Magnus takes a sharp breath. “You like that?” Magnus is breathing hard, not speaking, trembling like he's fighting to hold still. And isn't that a rush. “Course you do, especially if it's, uh, been a while?” As he talks, playing at a confidence he doesn't quite feel, he lets his hand drift back to Magnus’s dick, pressing it down just a bit, brushing the tip against his own belly. “Nothing wrong with that, I mean, listen….”

Magnus looks at him with those big eyes, and again it stirs something, not in his groin (well, ok, that too) but in his heart, and nope, not that, not today. He walks Magnus backwards around the corner of the bunk, one hand on his chest (heaving, breathing hard, he can feel Magnus’s heartbeat), one hand on his hip, this wall of a man just silently following his lead, sitting with a thump on his bunk. Magnus balls up the blanket in his fists as he looks up at Taako.

“Yeah?” says Taako, utterly at a loss for words. He leans down to kiss Magnus again, and each time it’s hot and heady and  _ safe,  _ which is an utterly wild thing to even think. He tugs on Magnus’s lower lip with his teeth, and Magnus just whines; he runs a hand through Magnus’s soft shaggy hair and tugs just enough to tip Magnus’s head to look at him, to meet the intensity of those eyes, and he closes his, tries to steady his own heart. “How ‘bout you lay back, and uh...yeah….”

He does it, lets go of the blankets, scoots backwards without a word, looking at Taako still, and there’s so much unsaid on his face that Taako can’t meet his eyes anymore. When Magnus lays back against his pillows — where does he keep stealing all those pillows from? how does he even fit in the bed with them? — Taako crawls onto the bed after him, on his knees between Magnus’s legs, running his hands up Magnus’s thighs. When his fingertips brush over the hair there, Magnus shivers, and closes his eyes.

With Magnus’s eyes closed, it feels safe to watch his face while wrapping a hand around his dick, while cupping his balls; he can watch the anxious wrinkle between his brows smooth as his face relaxes, as Magnus relaxes into the touch. Taako murmurs encouragement, more tender than he’s used to, and there’s a lump in his throat at Magnus’s moan in response. He shifts, curled between Magnus’s sturdy legs, and he can smell the sweat, Magnus’s animal heat; he tentatively presses his lips to the root of Magnus’s cock, and at the ragged gasp that follows, runs his tongue up the underside all the way to the tip. 

“Oh, fuck, Taako,” says Magnus, and then Taako takes just the tip into his mouth, soft suction with his lips, tongue darting out to lick at the velvety head, to taste the drop of precome. Magnus’s hands are gripping the blankets again, his knuckles white from the force of his grip. Taako tries to take him deeper, but Magnus is so thick, and honestly, Taako’s a little out of practice too, so he just licks and kisses, his hand wrapped around the shaft, and it feels sloppy and basic. But hearing Magnus groan and whimper, feeling the tension in those big thighs, that power held so carefully, his hips just barely thrusting up to Taako’s hand and mouth— he wants it, he’s breathing hard, giddy with lust, with Magnus’s lust, lost in sensation….

Magnus pants his name again, several times in a row, the urgency rising in his voice, and Taako pauses, just holding Magnus’s dick casual as anything, his other hand splayed out over Magnus’s thigh. He traces a little circle on the skin.

“You like that, big guy?” he says, and Magnus manages a weak laugh, bites his lip, looks down at Taako, takes a breath. He looks like he’s about to say something, but hesitates, with another little nervous laugh. Taako takes another slow stroke, and Magnus’s face falls slack with pleasure. “Mmmmmhm. Yeah ya do.”

Magnus lets go of the blankets with one big hand, reaches out to touch Taako, and gods it’s the most delicate touch, his hand on Taako’s shoulder light and tentative. He reaches to brush the hair from Taako’s face.

“Use your words, bubeleh,” Taako says, though he can’t help leaning into that touch, his own face relaxing as Magnus strokes his cheek. Magnus’s hand drops to reach towards his hips, and Taako climbs up, over Magnus’s legs, straddling Magnus’s waist, feeling Magnus’s dick bounce against the curve of his ass. Magnus blushes.

“Can I— Taako— I wanna—” He closes his eyes for just a moment, and Taako drinks in the sight of his long lashes, his flushed cheeks. He reaches down to toy with one of Magnus’s nipples, and Magnus opens his eyes again. “Can I fuck you, Taako?” he asks, his voice husky with lust and sincerity. Taako feels his cheeks get hot.

“Listen to this bad boy, being all chivalrous and shit.” Taako leans down to kiss him, and despite the joking it’s slow and tender. “Cha’boy is very into that idea, Maggie,” he murmurs into Magnus’s jaw, “just let me, ah, ya know….” He glances backwards, a surge of excitement and nerves running through him at the sight of Magnus’s dick, at the thought of sinking down onto it. He lets out a breath.

“Anything I can, uh, help…?” Magnus drums his fingers on Taako’s leg, and boy howdy isn’t that a thought.

“Um….” and before he can even get a thought out, Magnus has an arm around his waist, flipping Taako over onto his back, then his big hands on the backs of Taako’s thighs, sliding down until he’s got a thumb resting, waiting, ready. Taako stammers for a moment, finally managing, “hold on, hold on, hold on.” Tongue between his teeth, he mutters a familiar incantation, and Magnus lets out a startled gasp.

“Been practicing your cantrips?” Magnus says with a grin.

“Pfft, please, that’s a first level—” and then it’s his turn to gasp as Magnus’s Grease-slicked thumb slides against the ring of muscle, as Magnus presses still gentle but steady, opening him up slowly. Taako sighs at the feel of it, and Magnus’s other hand, solid and reassuring on his skin. Magnus pauses, looking down at him, and Taako just nods, and it’s like that simple gesture unlocks something in Magnus, this look on his face — simultaneously hungry and gentle — and he switches from thumb to finger, first one and then two. He’s careful and steady, and Taako just watches the muscles in his arms, knowing how much strength is there, how much he’s holding back. 

Then Magnus crooks those big fingers, a little question mark in the furrow of his brow, and Taako gasps again, seeing stars, and he’s hard again, still so sensitive: he’s the one with blankets balled up in his fists, he was gonna get Magnus but here he is on his back with Magnus two fingers deep, and he’s open and aroused. He can see Magnus’s erection too, pressed against his belly, he should have spent more time, but maybe there’s a next time, and Taako is panting, he wants—

“More, please, baby,” he whines, and he’s babbling, and the distant feeling that maybe he’ll regret this later, maybe he’ll be embarrassed thinking about being vulnerable, but damned if he doesn’t feel  _ safe _ here with Magnus, and damned if he doesn’t want— 

And then Magnus pulls him onto his dick with a sigh that deepens into a groan, Magnus’s weight is on him, the long slow drag of him almost too much. Magnus is still for a moment, breathing heavy; he’s balanced on one arm and with the other hand strokes Taako’s hair. Taako turns his head, tucks his face into his shoulder: it’s so intense, it’s too intense, the absolute rightness of it more than he can bear. Magnus strokes his cheek, kisses the corner of his mouth. Magnus murmurs his name.

Taako turns his head, then, looks into those big hazel eyes. “Fuck me?” he says, and he means it to be fierce, but it comes out with a breathy question mark. Magnus smiles, though, and the little lines around his eyes crinkle, and Taako grabs his face to kiss him, hard, just as he starts pumping again, fucking Taako with hard sharp thrusts. Their kissing is rough and messy, leaving Taako’s lips feeling bruised.

He reaches a hand between them to stroke himself, moving in time with Magnus’s thrusts, his whole body shaking from it. They’re both panting against each other’s mouths, and Taako mutters “good, so good”, Magnus crying out his name. Magnus is saying his name, Magnus is fucking him, and he didn’t think that would happen but he’s coming again, dizzy and delirious. As he clenches, Magnus’s hips stutter, his eyes squeeze closed, and they both breathe in sharp gasps. Magnus’s pumping slows with his breath; he lets out a little grunt as he pulls off then flops to the side.

Taako waits for Magnus to push him away, but instead he throws an arm over Taako and pulls him close with a pleased hum. The beads of his bracelet press into Taako’s side.

“Wow,” Magnus says, burying his face in Taako’s neck. They’re both sweaty and sticky with cum, really too gross for cuddling as far as he’s concerned, and he lets out a little disgusted noise. “Oh,” says Magnus, and it’s so dejected a sound that Taako instantly regrets everything and considers Blinking away.

“Sorry, just, you know—” and he manages a little flourish of his hand to Prestidigitate away the worst of the mess.

“Oh!” says Magnus, and when Taako looks at him, there’s an eager curiosity in his eyes. “Neat!”

“Yes bubeleh, very neat, magic is  pretty godsdamn useful,” he replies, curling closer into Magnus’s arms. When he puts a hand on Magnus’s chest, Taako can feel his heartbeat, the steady pulse under hair and skin and muscle. He takes a deep breath and rests his head there. One heartbeat, and another, and another, and then he’s asleep, not even a pretense of meditation, just a deep dreamless rest.

//

He wakes in the dark. His eyes are crusted with sleep, and Magnus is snoring softly, one arm thrown over his face. Taako watches him for a long time; his face is relaxed, restful, an ease that Taako envies. 

There's a loud snort from the other bunk, the rest of their roommates presumably having come in during the night. Taako lets out an uneasy sigh,but when he glances over there's no sign of movement. He kisses Magnus’s cheek before working his way out of the bunk and climbing back into his own. 

His sleepy sack is safe, and familiar. It's never felt so lonely; both sleep and meditation are a distant possibility. 

//

"Ya left yer hat in the hall," says Merle, flinging said hat like a fantasy frisbee across the dorm room. The others are still asleep, and Taako looks down at him with bleary eyes. He almost says that it isn't his hat, it's Magnus’s hat, but of course that's not right. 

"Uh, thanks?" Taako twirls the hat on his finger before jamming it onto his head. When he takes a deep breath, he can smell Magnus again. As he remembers the clothes almost certainly scattered around the room, his ears get hot. 

Merle clears his throat. "Ya know, I've heard it's customary to leave a hat or whatnot on the doorknob, if, uh, ya know…. Anyhow, I would, if it were me…." 

"Okay, first of all, gross, second of all…." He almost says  _ nothing happened,  _ but he hears Magnus let out a little snuffling breath from the bunk below him.

"Second of all  _ what?"  _ says Merle. 

Taako frowns and pulls his sleepy sack around himself. "Just, just, none of your business, old man, I'm going back to sleep."

"Fine then, I'm gonna get some coffee, just don't be late to training." Merle wanders off grumbling. Taako sighs as he lays down again, hat over his face, waiting until the others are up and moving before he dares stir from his bed. 

He finds his clothes — the ones Magnus had stolen — neatly folded on top of his trunk. They're stinky and stretched out, a few seams torn, but left as tidy as could be expected. He picks up the shirt, holds it to his chest, thinks of it on Magnus, and sighs. He'll cast Mending later. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to @hops, especially for some really thoughtful editing. <3 Also to the WDA for the joking around about how much Merle actually knew about this whole situation, after I was wondering aloud what happened to Taako's hat.
> 
> Also, I've been relistening to Balance from the beginning, and feeling nostalgic for old Taagnus fic, and I might write some more? (pocket spa??????)


End file.
